


Outlaws of Love

by ImTheEveToYourAdam1



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Glee
Genre: Established Relationship, Gay Bashing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 10:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3205265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImTheEveToYourAdam1/pseuds/ImTheEveToYourAdam1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story portrays the lives of three different same-sex couples, all dealing with various issues that same-sex couples often have to deal with.  Let me just say up front that I DON’T believe that homosexuality is wrong; I merely used the idea as a tool for the story.  I believe that people should be allowed to love and be with whomever they chose, male or female, gay or straight, because love is love, and it’s a very powerful thing.  Two couples in the story you may recognize; I made up the other one.  Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outlaws of Love

_“If a man lies with a man as one lies with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They must be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads.”_

**Leviticus 20:13**

 

The day Tommy Joe heard the pastor speak those words, he then and there determined that he no longer believed in God.  If there were such a _loving_ and _understanding_ deity, He surely would not have urged Leviticus to write such hateful words.  The concept wouldn’t even exist.

Paralyzing chills held Tommy in a death grip as he was forced to listen to rest of the reading, which alluded to nothing but a one-way ticket to a very warm climate. Damnation without relief. Later, during the sermon, Pastor Erick elaborated on the passage, declaring that gay marriage undermined the institution of marriage itself (and therefore family and society). This “abomination”, as he put it, involved intercourse that didn’t create another life.  At this, Tommy scoffed.  _“So what?”_ he thought angrily. _“Gay or not, a couple can always adopt a kid.”_   Of course, adoption for same-sex couples wasn’t even legal now. People claimed that it would “confuse the child, and have them think that having two daddies or two mommies was okay.” That was, by far, one of the most ridiculous arguments Tommy had ever heard.

After Pastor Erick had railed on the subject for nearly twenty minutes, Tommy glanced at his watch.  _“If this douchebag doesn’t shut his trap in thirty seconds, I’m gonna be late for rehearsal.”_   He didn’t even wait another ten seconds before he was out of his seat and storming out of the church.  The heavy wooden doors were thrust open, and they slammed against the walls with force.

Once outside in the cool springtime air, he jerked his tie loose and tore off his suit jacket, wadded it up and tucked it under his arm.  It was only when he had started backing the old ’87 Buick out of the church parking lot that he realized that this was the only car that his family had brought to church.

“They can find their own way home,” he muttered, fiddling with the radio dial until he heard the opening notes to his favorite Metallica song.  “I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

Tires screamed when Tommy slammed on the gas and the car zoomed down the street. The heel of his palm thudded against the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

A contented sigh rushed out of Tommy’s lungs when he reached Adam’s driveway. The garage door was already open, so he locked up his car and made a beeline for the house.

“Hey, Glitterbaby,” Adam called out.  He was sitting cross-legged on the couch, barely paying attention to the episode of _Project Runway_ that was playing on the big-screen TV. He turned it off when he heard Tommy approaching.  “How was church?”

Tommy said nothing, just fell into Adam’s open arms and rested his forehead on Adam’s shoulder.

 

_They say we’ll rot in hell,_

_But I don’t think we will._

_They’ve branded us enough,_

_Outlaws of Love._

 

“He really _said_ that?” Adam sat with Tommy’s head propped in his lap.  Tommy blinked rapidly and wiped away the tears that were still on his face.

“Uh-huh. God, Adam, I've never been so angry before! I mean, I scared myself; that’s how bad it was.”

Adam sighed deeply. “Babe, look at me.” Tommy sat up and Adam placed his palm to his boyfriend’s overheated cheek.  “That _book_ ”—he spat out the word like it was poison—“is full of lies.”  Tommy gaped at him, wide-eyed.  Had he been twelve years old again and was still kinda-sorta interested in girls, he would’ve insisted that that was blasphemy.  “You want my opinion?  The only thing in there that’s actually God’s word is the Ten Commandments.  That’s all.  The rest of it is just a load of bullshit that a bunch of undereducated, primeval geezers made up and passed off as true because they didn’t know any better.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Tommy’s mouth.  “You always know how to make everything okay, Babyboy.”  Still smiling, he shook his head slightly. “When did you get so smart?”

“I think it was when I finally decided that I didn’t give a shit about what other people thought. And that’s your problem: you think too much.”  He placed both of his hands on either side of Tommy’s head and shook it lightly. “Stop thinking!” he said teasingly. Finally, a loud, genuine laugh bubbled out of the pixie-like bassist.

Adam laughed with him. “See?” he said. “Don’t you feel better now? You waste all your energy on being so serious, and doing all that _thinking_ ”—he screwed up his face playfully—“and you don’t have any left to take a second and just _laugh_!”

Tommy’s expression grew serious.  He clasped Adam’s hands in his own and whispered, “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Adam’s smile softened a bit.  “You just did, baby.”

Before Tommy could even think of a response, Adam’s lips were crushing his, so hard he thought they’d probably bruise.  Tommy leaned further into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Adam’s neck. Tongues twisted and tangled, and teeth crashed against each other while arms tightened and hands roamed freely.

Finally, breathless, Tommy drew back and carded his fingers through Adam’s dark hair. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Adam replied.  “And one day, baby, one day people are going to see how wrong they are, and things will be better. For people like us. Then you and I can really be together; we can get married, have a family.”  He sighed deeply.  “Until then, all we can do is just love each other.  And honestly, that’s enough for me.”

 

_Scars make us who we are._

_Hearts and homes are broken, broken._

_Far, we could go so far_

_With our minds wide open, open._

 

Brian’s heart broke in devastation as he hung up the phone.  He collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table and buried his head in his hands.

_“How could they change their minds?”_ he wondered miserably. His head buzzed with a thousand different questions and he didn’t even turn around when he heard the front door open and close, and the approaching footsteps of Jesse, his husband. And he was _whistling_.  They had just been rejected as adoptive parents, and the man was whistling. Brian had half a mind to jump up and start shaking his partner; how dare he come home so upbeat when they had just gotten the worst news in the world?

“Babe, where are you?” Jesse called out.  “You know what I was thinking while I was on my way back home today?  I was thinking, if it’s a girl, we should name her Ava Rose. And if it’s a boy, Noah Alexander.”

He sounded so excited, and it broke Brian’s heart knowing that he’d have to be the bearer of the bad news.  Finally, after taking a deep breath and willing his legs to not give out, he stood up from the table and walked over to embrace Jesse tightly.  Tears brimmed in Brian’s green eyes, and as soon as Jesse saw, he knew something was wrong.

“Okay, please tell me those are tears of joy that I’m seeing.”

Brian smiled sadly and shook his head.  “I just got off the phone with the adoption agency,” he said thickly.  “And…oh, god, this is so hard…  The birth mother—the mother changed her mind. She doesn’t want to give up the baby anymore.”

Jesse froze. “What?”

“We’re not getting our baby.  Oh, Jess, I’m so sorry!”

“Damn it,” Jesse swore under his breath, then swept his husband into a comforting embrace. “Did they say why?”

This was the hard part. “They said—they said they didn’t want two _faggots_ to raise their child.” Finally, Brian broke down and sobbed loudly into Jesse’s shoulder.  Jesse tightened his grip around Brian’s waist as hot tears poured down his own face.

“And it would’ve been a girl,” he whimpered.  “Our little Ava Rose…”

Jesse only cried harder at this.  He imagined a beautiful little girl with brown hair and blue eyes; a little girl that they’d dress in pretty pink dresses and send to ballet and music lessons; a little girl who would, one day, be the star singer of her high school choir; a little girl who would bring home boys that they would have to scare the shit out of if they didn’t treat their daughter like an absolute princess.

After several minutes, Jesse cleared his throat and swallowed the rest of his tears. He cupped Brian’s tearstained face in his hands and said, “Babe, look at me.”  Brian’s face was still turned down, so he repeated louder, “Brian. _Look at me_.”  Puffy green eyes flickered up to face him.  “Scars make us who we are.  And someday, this horrible experience will make us stronger.  And, yeah, it’s gonna take a long time, but we’re going to be better, stronger people because of it.  You’ll see.” He placed a kiss to Brian’s nose, making him crack a small smile at last.

“Everything will work itself out,” Jesse whispered.  “I promise.”

 

_Hey, tears all fall the same._

_We all feel the rain._

_We can’t change…_

 

A boy was curled up in the fetal position on the cold tile floor of a boys’ bathroom in William McKinley High School.  Tears streamed down his face and he was pretty sure he was hyperventilating. Kurt Hummel had just narrowly escaped yet another violent locker check and frightening verbal harassment from a freakish-looking hockey Neanderthal.

Now, Kurt was a fairly strong person, and after three years, was accustomed to such public humiliation.  But he was only one person, and even the strongest of people eventually reach a breaking point. So now all the tears he’d been hiding for so long finally decided to make an appearance.  And the sad thing was, he didn’t even care. The school day was essentially over, with the exception of Glee rehearsal.  He knew that someone would probably come looking for him if he didn’t show up soon.

At that moment, the bathroom door squeaked open and a short, dark-haired boy poked his head inside. _Blaine_. This was the very least of the evils—a godsend, even—because Blaine understood Kurt, and somehow he always knew how to make things better.

Blaine knelt down on the floor next to Kurt, took him in his arms, and softly whispered, “ _Courage_.”

Kurt threw his arms around Blaine’s neck, pulling him flush against him.  “Oh, Blaine,” he sobbed, clinging to his boyfriend for dear life. “I thought it was over! Karofsky’s not even here anymore, so I thought things would be different, but they’re not!”

“Shh, I know, I know,” Blaine cooed, holding Kurt even tighter.

“A-and I wish I could change, Blaine, really, I do!” Kurt sobbed, taking in a deep, shuddering breath.  “But I can’t.”

Blaine closed his eyes, those hazel orbs that always made Kurt go weak in the knees. He rubbed Kurt’s back in soft, small circles and just waited for his boyfriend’s sobs to subside.

Finally, Kurt pulled away slightly.  “Ugh, I’m sorry,” he said, wiping at his eyes.  “Look at me, I’m a mess.”

“No,” Blaine countered, “you’re beautiful.”  Kurt ducked his head shyly.  He still wasn’t used to that.  “Kurt,” Blaine said again, “you are, by far, the strongest person I know.  Now, at one point, I know you had to get out of here and come to Dalton, but that was for your own safety.  You weren’t a coward like I was, and you didn’t just run away from everything.”

“But I still ran.”

“I know you did. But I want you to listen to what I’m going to tell you,” the handsome dark-haired boy said.  “If you hadn’t come to Dalton, if you weren’t _just the way you are_ , if you weren’t…” he hesitated slightly, then mumbled quietly, “if you weren’t gay, I never would’ve fallen in love with you.  If all of that hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t be here right now, together.”

Kurt smiled slightly at Blaine’s words.  “I know you’re right and everything, but that still doesn’t change—”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.”  Blaine stroked his hand down Kurt’s smooth, tearstained face.  “But tears all fall the same.  Just like Rachel’s, just like Finn’s…just like any other straight person. Even those stupid puck-heads.” This made Kurt finally smile and even laugh a bit.  “And, baby, I know you want to change.  But being different is what makes you so special, and beautiful, and wonderful, and perfect.”

At this, Kurt leaned in and brushed his lips against Blaine’s.  He tasted like strawberries, something that Kurt had always loved about him.

Then, as they embraced each other tightly, Blaine sang softly into Kurt’s ear, _“Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel like you’re less than, less than perfect.  Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel like you’re nothing, you are perfect, you are perfect to me_.”

That was their song, and it had never failed to make Kurt feel good about himself and remind him of how much Blaine truly loved him.  And he felt like, as long as he had that, everything would be okay.


End file.
